


Statutory Rights

by zilia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU in which everyone is living in Stark Tower, Humor, M/M, Team Bonding, Team as Family, The Steve Rogers statue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 07:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11869704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zilia/pseuds/zilia
Summary: The Avengers make a trip to see the Steve Rogers statue in Brooklyn.





	Statutory Rights

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a recent visit to the Steve Rogers statue in Brooklyn that I made with my dear friend Claudia_flies, who was also my beta for this.

There’s always a downside to a week without any monster, alien invasions, or entry-level evil geniuses with something to prove threatening the safety of New York.

It’s mostly good, of course. Steve’s brow gets less furrowed, they actually get to spend time together in the ridiculously opulent apartment they have now, and, in this particular instance, Bucky can actually take time to recover from his broken leg and not feel like he’s letting the team down because of it (stupid knock-off serum). However, the irritating side-effect is that people start talking about Morale and Using The Time Wisely and it usually ends up with them having to do something stupid in the name of team building, like those dumb escape room games (lame; just punch your way out) or winter survival exercises (too many jokes about his codename) or cupcake decoration (which had started out fine, but turned disastrous when Hulk had shown up just after they’d run out of rainbow sprinkles).

It’s been five days. Steve has insisted on carrying him whenever there’s the slightest excuse, which is totally unnecessary, the Stark crutches work just fine, but they both secretly get kind of a kick out of it. He’s just unwound enough to start humming to himself around the apartment again, which Bucky always enjoys hearing despite his utter inability to carry a tune. They’ve done laundry, cleared out the fridge, and are having their usual circular discussion about whether it’s time to switch to the summer sheets yet, or whether there’s a risk of more cold nights to come. It’s great.

This, of course, is why Stark breezes into their apartment and says, “We’re going on a field trip.”

Steve looks up at him, and at the other Avengers, all of whom have filed into the room after him, wearing jackets and rucksacks and looking worryingly like they might all be planning on going outside. “What?”

“Field trip!” Stark says, waving his hands around in that irritating way of his. “We’re going to see the Cap statue.”

Steve and Bucky exchange glances.

“We’ve seen the Cap statue,” Steve says. “We went to the unveiling last year. It was fine.”

 _Fine_ isn’t quite right. Pepper had bullied Steve into going to the official opening and wielding a comically oversized pair of scissors to cut the ribbon. He’d dutifully worn the suit, given a brief speech, and disappeared as quickly as possible afterwards. The other Avengers had all attended, and Bucky had made a rare civilian trip outside of the tower and climbed a tree three hours before the ceremony in order to observe it from a safe distance. He’d been the only person to notice how uncomfortable Steve had been through the whole thing.

“Right,” Stark says. “We saw it last year, when it was in the park. But they’ve moved it. Looks like the park display was only temporary, so we should go see where it is now. Apparently, it’s in Industry City in Brooklyn.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Steve says quickly. “We’ve already seen it. And we all know what it looks like. It looks like me. You see me every day.”

“Its ass isn’t as good as yours,” Clint says. Privately, Bucky agrees with him, and he’d know better than anyone.

Everyone turns to look at Clint, and he flushes.

“His pants are very tight, ok?” he mumbles. “Don’t tell me you haven’t all looked once or twice.”

Nobody argues with this, and Bucky basks in the reflected pride of Steve’s ass.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Stark says, after a moment of silence. “We’ve got nothing to do today. Why don’t we go check it out? See Cap in his new home? Maybe get ice cream on the way?”

Unless Bucky’s very much mistaken, somebody is going to say “team building” in the next few seconds.

“It would be great for team building,” Sam says, proving Bucky right.

Stark’s eyes gleam with triumph. Bucky suppresses a sigh.

“Well, that’s settled. We’re all ready to go, as you can see. Steve, Bucket-List, you coming?”

This is a dilemma. Bucky would rather eat his own eyeballs than abandon Steve, but he also hates these group outings more than anything else in the world. Being in the field is one thing, but being out in public, especially when he’s not at full capacity, tends to make him twitchy. His leg is going to need the rest of the day at least to get better, and the thought of being exposed, on crutches, even with the rest of the Avengers around him, makes his teeth hurt.

He can tell by the way Steve’s looking at him that he knows exactly what he’s thinking. Because Steve is a good person, infinitely better than Bucky, he adopts a very convincing concerned tone and says, “Maybe you should stay here, Buck? You know, your leg?”

Bucky leaves it a moment and then says, “Yeah, you’re probably right,” in his most regretful voice. Inwardly, he’s punching the air. Nobody, not even Stark, can argue with Steve’s Captain America Is Worried About You voice. It’s probably a more effective weapon than the shield. He’s used it on all of them at least once, and it’s impossible to argue with.

“OK, OK,” Stark says, rolling his eyes, but not pursuing it further. “But Cap, you’re coming, yes?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Excellent, grab your coat, let’s go.”

Stark strides out of the apartment and the rest of the Avengers file after him, like a row of obedient ducklings. Steve stays behind for a moment, his hand on Bucky’s, not looking enthusiastic about the idea.

“Will you be OK if I go?”

“Will _you_ be OK if you go?”

Steve sighs. “Good point. But I should, it’ll be good to spend the day with the team. You sure you don’t want to?”

Bucky shakes his head again, but softens his refusal by leaning across the table and kissing Steve gently on the mouth, just for a couple of seconds.

“I’ll bake something for when you get back,” he says, and Steve’s face lights up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He’s been working his way through some baking blogs, trying new recipes. Steve loves eating the results, and Bucky loves making Steve happy, so it’s a good arrangement.

“OK. Don’t push that leg.”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Bucky says, giving him a little shove. Steve sighs and gets up, grabbing his leather jacket from the back of his chair, and heading out the door. Bucky watches him go, willing his heart to slow down at the sight of him leaving – _nothing is going to happen, he’s going to come back safe and sound in just a few hours_ – and then gets up himself to turn the oven on.

Today is going to be a two-recipe day at least.

***

Bucky can tell it didn’t all quite go to plan when, three hours later, everyone piles back into their apartment. He’s sitting in his favourite spot by the window, where the sunlight streams in. Two batches of muffins, one chocolate chip, one raspberry-peach, are cooling on the kitchen counter. He’s just contemplating whether he wants to get up and test his leg when the door swings open and they arrive, trooping through the hallway to arrange themselves on the couches and chairs of their living room.

Bucky waves, but doesn’t do anything else. Something is off; Steve doesn’t come and say hello to him, but instead sinks dejectedly into an armchair with a deep sigh. Everyone else is looking at Steve, but trying to make it look like they’re not, with a mixture of anticipation and concern. The only one who manages to hide it is Natasha, but he wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

Steve sighs a couple more times. Nobody else says anything. The tension in the room is palpable, and it’s making Bucky nervous. He can see Sam start to say something once or twice, but then stop himself, making odd abortive croaking noises.

He looks down to see he’s gripping the edge of the window seat, and consciously relaxes his grip.

Finally, Steve speaks.

“I’m not saying it’s not nice to _have_ a statue,” he says, his voice carefully measured, his ears bright pink, “I’m obviously really _grateful_. I’m just not sure why it had to end up _there_ , exactly.”

“It’s a very tasteful setting?” Bruce offers, and several people snigger, before quickly stifling themselves.

“Lovely lighting,” Clint says solemnly, nodding. “Really sets it off nicely.”

“Does anyone want coffee?” Sam asks, clearly trying to change the subject.

Nobody responds, but he gets up and starts the machine anyway, and the whirr and grind of it is the only noise in the otherwise silent kitchen. Bucky can tell that the reason for the silence is because everyone wants to see what Steve will say next, and they’re not disappointed.

“Bed, Bath and Beyond, though?” he explodes, a moment later, before the coffee’s even done. “Really? That’s what people want, when they go and buy their sheets?”

“They thought it was too commercial in the park,” Natasha points out soothingly. “You wouldn’t want to upset the residents of Brooklyn, would you?”

 _There’s a resident of Brooklyn you don’t want to upset right here_ , Bucky thinks, _and yet here we are. What’s this about?_

“Commercial?! It’s not like they were charging entry fees! It’s just a statue! And they didn’t even _ask_ me about moving it. Or about making it in the first place.”

Sam carries the coffee pot to the table and starts to pour while they all try to think of something else to say.

“Well, I think it was also at risk of being…vandalised, in the park,” Bruce says delicately, which is descriptive enough, but just in case there’s someone who doesn’t get it, Stark breaks in with, “Yeah, people kept climbing on it and doing obscene things to it,” which makes several people groan and Sam throw a muffin wrapper at him. It flutters uselessly down to the ground.

Bucky would have thrown the coffee machine, himself.

“It was in _Children’s Corner_ ,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “Children don’t do that.”

“People cruising for action in the park after dark might do, though,” Tony says thoughtfully, and Clint spits his coffee all over the table.

“Do the people of Brooklyn really hate me that much?” Steve says, despairingly.

Bruce says, “I’d take it as a compliment, personally. Nobody wants to do that to a statue of me. Or of Hulk.”

“Actually, I –“ Tony starts, but he’s interrupted by Thor.

“I think it is a fine tribute!”

Steve seems to brighten a little, and Bucky starts silently counting down in his head to see how long it will take for Thor to screw this up.

“There are many statues on Asgard,” he continues. “They are not quite like that one, though. They are displayed in the Hall of Heroes and are treated with the highest –.” He stops abruptly. Eleven seconds. Not bad.

“I like Bed, Bath and Beyond,” Clint says a moment later, breaking the silence. “It’s a good value store. Lots of customers. Loads of people will see it, Cap.”

“I’m not sure whether I really _want_ them to see it,” Steve says, “I never wanted it in the first place, and now...” He puts his head in his hands.

“Yeah, it’s kind of tacky,” Stark says. Bucky thinks that people who have made monuments to themselves that are several storeys high and almost certainly compensating for something shouldn’t really be allowed to express their opinions on what exactly constitutes tacky, but he keeps that thought to himself.

Steve’s head remains on the table, and he makes a sound that sounds suspiciously like a sob.

“Does someone want to tell me what happened?” Bucky asks. They all turn to look at him. Nobody seems to want to explain. At last, Bruce takes pity on him.

“They moved the statue to a shopping mall,” he says. “It’s in the foyer there.”

“There’s a ‘no climbing’ sign on it too,” Stark says, “Which I think supports my ‘people were molesting it’ theory.”

Oh.

“I took some pictures!” Clint says, pulling his phone from his pocket and tossing it over for Bucky to have a look at. He scrolls through them. The statue looks odd where it is; it’s quite dark, and there’s no ceremony to it, nothing to explain what precisely connects Steve and everything he stands for with a fairly run-of-the-mill monument to American capitalism. In one of the photographs, Steve is standing next to the statue, clearly doing his best to smile, but looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

From the table, Steve makes another noise that sounds like a sob.

Bucky decides that this is the right time for everyone to leave, so he gets up and hobbles over to the couches.

“Well, great to see you all,” he says. “Take some muffins. See you later.”

This works on everyone but Stark, and really, if he has to get a few steps closer to him and clear his throat meaningfully in order to get his message across, well, these things happen.

***

Steve doesn’t say much for the rest of the day, just wordlessly presents Bucky with a new summer comforter while his upper lip wobbles. They go to bed early.

At 1am, Bucky realises what he has to do.

***

It’s still very early when Bucky slips back into bed beside Steve, sweaty from the exertion, his leg aching, but Steve wakes up anyway.

“Your face is cold,” he complains, when Bucky nuzzles his neck. “Have you been outside?”

“Maybe,” Bucky allows.

“What? Why? What did you do?”

Really, why does Steve have to be so suspicious all the time? “I can neither confirm nor deny having done anything,” he says, in his haughtiest voice, and Steve laughs and rolls over so that they’re facing each other.

“OK, OK. Whatever. I’m glad you’re back.”

They snuggle together under the blankets for a while. It’s warm and cosy – Steve is like a furnace, as always – and Bucky’s starting to drift back off to sleep again when Steve speaks.

“I’m sorry I got so upset yesterday. It really doesn’t matter. It’s only a statue.”

“It’s OK,” Bucky murmurs, but Steve is insistent.

“It _doesn’t_ matter. I’ve been a real jerk, complaining about having a statue in a shopping mall when there are other people who deserve one much more. You, for one.”

“You were always meant to be a symbol, Steve. Right from the beginning. Makes sense there’d be one of you. And I ain’t exactly statue material.”

“Yes, you _are…_ If people would only _listen…_ ”

“It’s _OK,_ Steve. I don’t need that, and neither do you, I know that. It’s just a fucking statue. And besides, I have my name on the Wall of Valour. That’s not nothing.”

“Some asshole started a petition to get it taken off, though,” Steve says, indignantly, getting fired up. “I sent him a piece of my mind.”

“After seventy years of torture and brainwashing, taking my name off a dumb memorial isn’t going to hurt me,” Bucky says. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, and that’s worth a million memorials or statues.”

Steve blushes, and kisses him.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“If it were up to me, there’d be a statue of you in every house,” he says, partly because it’s true, partly because he knows Steve would hate it. “Every street corner. Every park.”

“ _No._ That’d be my worst nightmare.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t build it yourself. More than can be said for Stark. Make sure you point that out to him next time he tries to make you feel bad.”

“I don’t think he did it on purpose. Nobody really knew what to expect.”

“Forget about it, OK, Steve?”

Steve sighs contentedly and cuddles closer.

“It doesn’t matter where it is. It’s kind of a relief, to be honest. Nobody’s going to see it there. Much, much better that way.”

Bucky feels a slight twinge of guilt, but it soon passes.

***

They’re sitting at the table, halfway through Bucky’s raspberry-peach muffins, when there’s a rap on the door, and then Stark swoops into the room before they can answer it. _Rude_.

“How did this happen?” he demands, brandishing a newspaper.

“How did what happen?” Steve asks through a mouthful of muffin.

“ _This_.” Stark throws the copy of the _Daily Bugle_ onto the table dramatically. On the front page, there’s a photograph of the statue of Steve, bang in the middle of Times Square, and the headline blares _DISPLACED STATUE CAUSES CHAOS._

Steve turns to look at Bucky, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. Bucky holds his gaze, his face a mask of innocence.

“Nothing to do with me,” Steve says.

“Buckaroo?”

“My leg’s still healing.”

Stark gives him a shrewd look, but shrugs. “Well then, it’s a mystery.” He grabs a muffin from the basket on the table and bites into it. “It’d have to have been someone really strong, though,” he says, his voice slightly muffin-muffled.

“You don’t think I’d be so egotistical as to do that myself?” Steve demands, flushing, and Stark holds up a hand.

“No, no, I know you wouldn’t. Just saying. I’ll be going now.”

He grabs another muffin on his way out. Halfway to the door, he pauses.

“How did you do it, though?” he asks. “How’d you get past the security? You can’t even reliably work a Stark phone.”

“I didn’t move the statue, Tony,” Steve says. “If I had, I wouldn’t have put it there.”

This is looking like it’s going to turn into an argument, and Bucky is just wondering whether he should intervene when the alarm to assemble goes off. Saved by the bell.

“Oh, good, I was getting bored,” Stark says. “Suit up, Rogers, I’ll see you in the briefing room.” Taking the last muffin, he strides out of the room, but when he gets to the door, he turns.

“You’d better stay behind, Buckles, _if your leg’s still that bad_.”

Bucky meets his gaze and smiles, his face still maintaining its expression of perfect innocence, and Stark snorts and stomps off. Once he’s gone, Bucky throws Steve a questioning glance. He could definitely make this mission if they need him to, but Steve shakes his head.

“We can handle it,” he assures him. “Rest. Bake me something else.” Then he dashes into their bedroom, emerging a moment later carrying his suit and his shield.

“You’re going to put it back though, right?” he says.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Steve snorts. “Sure you don’t.” He’s hurriedly putting on the suit, closing the zipper and buckling his shield harness. “If it’s still in Times Square when I get back…”

“I’m sure it’ll find its way home,” Bucky says airily. “Now go, I’ve got baking to do.”

Steve give him a hurried kiss and rushes out the door, and Bucky sits back down to read the _Daily Bugle_.

In all his long career and much-vaunted infamy, nobody’s ever managed to insult him quite like J. Jonah Jameson.

***

The next day, Bucky is officially cleared for active duty, and the statue reappears in Prospect Park, bolted so firmly to the ground that no amount of specialist tools can remove it.

If Tony Stark is missing some of his welding equipment, he either doesn’t notice, or decides not to say anything.


End file.
